


this is no second thought

by lovebeyondmeasure



Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F L U F F, F/M, Families of Choice, Fluff, Marriage Proposal, Moving In Together, Post-Career of Evil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-16 22:09:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13063161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovebeyondmeasure/pseuds/lovebeyondmeasure
Summary: “Well, we could just stay here,” he offered, knowing she’d shoot him down.“It’s barely big enough for you, you great oaf!” she teased. “Where would all my stuff go?”--------------------Robin and Cormoran take on a different kind of challenge: cohabitation.





	1. landmark

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bethanyactually](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bethanyactually/gifts), [reindeerjumper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reindeerjumper/gifts), [lindmea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lindmea/gifts).



> I got five words from three ladies for two characters so let's all enjoy one fic! Other chapters forthcoming; chapter titles are the prompt words.
> 
> Title from "Live Together" by Lisa Stansfield:
> 
> Look at me, I'm the honest kind  
> When I say it, I mean it  
> I swear I need you all my life  
> All we need is sympathy, if we want to change our minds  
> This is no second thought, this is for all times  
> All my life 

“I’m telling you, I don’t like that one.”

Robin rolled her eyes. Honestly, sometimes he could be stubborn about the silliest things. “Cormoran, I believe you, but it’s got the best value of all the flats we’ve looked at and my lease is up at the end of next month, so if it’s not going to be that one I’ll be needing a real reason why, and not just a feeling.”

“Hey,” he said, “the feelings of an investigator-”

“Are still just feelings. We deal in facts, Corm.” She softened. “What is it about that flat that bothers you so much?”

He looked at her, then away. “I think it’s just the, ah.” He sighed. “Does it sound idiotic to say that everything’s too much the same?”

“What do you mean?” She settled next to him on the sofa, setting his mug of tea on the coffee table in front of them both while cradling her own.

“It’s just… it’s very cookie-cutter. All the little boxes made of ticky-tacky, right? There’s nothing distinctive about any of it. Gives me the heebie-jeebies.”

“The heebie-jeebies?” Robin smiled fondly at him over her tea. “You manage to surprise me in new ways every day, I swear.”

“I’m jus’ saying!” he protested. “I don’t like an area that’s lacking in, you know, trees. Nature. Landmarks. It’s too….”

“Same,” she finished. “Alright, then. What do you propose we do instead?”

“Well, we could just stay here,” he offered, knowing she’d shoot him down.

“It’s barely big enough for you, you great oaf!” she teased. “Where would all my stuff go?”

Cormoran throttled down an answer involving her not needing to wear clothing, which would be poorly received, and said instead, “I know, I know. What about that flat we looked at last week?”

“Which one,” Robin asked absently as she opened her laptop, “the one that smelled distinctly and completely of marijuana, or the one above the butcher shop?”

“Right,” Cormoran sighed. Neither had seemed a good fit. “Well, I suppose I could learn to live without landmarks.”

“Was this one listed last time you checked?” Robin asked, turning her screen to show him the post.

“No,” Cormoran said, peering at the pictures. High enough ceilings, kitchen looked decent, bathroom had a walk-in stall instead of a clawfoot. “How much?”

“It’s a bit more expensive than the last one,” Robin hedged. Cormoran braced himself, but it was only just at the top of their budget, not completely beyond. 

“That’s not out of reason. Where is it?”

“Well, that’s why I asked. It’s only about six blocks from here, and it’s a basement apartment, so no going up lots of stairs. It seems too good to pass up.”

“Is there a number to call?” Cormoran asked, reaching for his mobile. 

“Yeah,” Robin said, catching his rising excitement. She rattled off the number, and the voice on the other end was happy to arrange a showing for the next morning.

“I like this one,” Cormoran said, smiling at Robin, who had curled on the couch as he spoke on the phone. “Good catch, love.”

“Thank you,” she smiled up at him, and he leaned forward over the back of the couch to lay a kiss on her forehead. She tilted her head back, and he kissed her on the mouth, still somehow disbelieving his luck that he was able to do any such thing, even after all these months.

“Can we get Chinese from that new place?” Robin asked, her face only centimeters from his.

“Of course,” he said, kissing her again.


	2. copper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This apartment is almost too good to be true. (Almost.)

The woman giving the tour was right at the very edge of Cormoran’s tolerance for perkiness, but Robin handled her gracefully.

“And in here, of course, the kitchen, which was renovated just year, the appliances are practically new,” the woman was saying, her light brown ponytail swaying behind her. “The cabinets are a bit high, but,” she evaluated the couple, “that shouldn’t be a problem for you two, I don’t think.”

Cormoran watched as Robin went to open cabinets, warmth unspooling into his chest. He throttled down a smile and asked the woman- what on earth was her name- about the renovation, and she happily began rattling off information.

“Well, the couple who were in this previously were actually the owners of the property, and they had everything done to their specifications, you see, so everything really high quality, not like some rentals where they give you cheap make-do,” the woman said, barely pausing for breath. “So you’ve got nice tiles in the washroom, new flooring throughout, a powder room added so there’s more than one loo, fully new copper piping laid in, the works.”

“Looks nice,” Cormoran nodded, searching for the catch. “So why’s it up for rent, then?”

“Oh,” and now the woman’s pointed face had an impish smile, and she looked really human for the first time. “That’s a funny story, actually, the wife’s a friend of mine. She found out she’s expecting, which they’d been hoping for.”

“Congratulations,” Cormoran said into her pause.

“And it’s wonderful, they’d got the second bedroom all set, I’ll show you in a moment, but it turns out they’re having triplets!” The woman- Claire, he remembered now- smiled broadly, inviting him in on the laugh. He smiled and managed a chuckle.

“So they’re what, renting this out for some extra income?”

“Yeah, and I’ll tell you what,” Claire said, as if confiding a secret, “she’s thinking they might be wanting to sell the flat, actually, since they won’t be moving back in, so if you really like it, you might get to buy it, eventually.”

“Ah,” Cormoran said. That was…. good. “It’s a nice flat, yeah.”

Robin came back, and seemed pleased with what she’d found. “Everything looks good to me, really. Can we see the bedrooms?”

“Of course!” Claire chirped, and she and Robin went off down the hall. Cormoran stumped along behind them, thinking about how easy it all seemed. It still felt too good to be true; there had to be a catch somewhere.

“You were the first call I got, actually,” Claire was saying as she flung open the doors to the master bedroom closet. “I’d only posted the listing an hour or two, then you called, and this morning I’ve gotten three more calls, can you believe it?”

“I can,” Robin said, stepping up beside her. “It’s practically impossible to find such a nice place for this price, and it’s perfect for us since it’s so close to the office.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Claire said, eyes crinkling. “You know, one of the calls I got this morning offered me more money than it’s listed for, but the man on the phone sounded awful, just awful. I rather like you two.”

“Thanks!” Robin said. “You’re so sweet, Claire, and I love this place, honestly. Don’t you, Corm?”

“What? Yeah, ‘s really good,” Cormoran said. He’s been thinking about windows. 

“I was telling your fiance, you know, I’m friends with the couple that owns this place, and I really think you’d be a good fit for them,” Claire said. Robin made appreciative noises. “Not that I usually play favorites, of course.”

“Of course not! But this is for a friend, you want to make sure it’ll work out personally as well as professionally,” Robin said, reaching out to pat Claire’s arm. “We understand.”

Cormoran nodded, once more amazed by how easily Robin read other people and put their worries to rest without seeming overbearing or heavy-handed. 

“Is the other bedroom across the hall?”

“Yeah, and the main washroom’s just there,” Claire said, gesturing as she opened the door. “This is, ah.”

Cormoran snorted. Here was the catch.

The second bedroom, which was of a decent size, was kitted up fully in preparation of a baby; it was painted a cheerful yellow, with a frieze of circus animals plastered at just about Cormoran’s eye level. The light fixture was a white cloud-like shape, and it was on a dimmer. 

“They’re fine with this room being re-done,” Claire hastened to say. “But I was telling Mr. Strike, they’ve been trying for a baby, and they got the room all set up, then found out it was triplets.”

“Triplets! How exciting!” Robin, of course, was enchanted. “Well, best of luck to them. What do you think, Corm, if we took down the animals and maybe changed the light fixture, could be a decent guest room and office, yeah?”

Cormoran looked around. “Yeah, should think so.”

Robin looked back at Claire. “Would it be premature to say we’ll take it?” she asked, one of her smiles turned up to the full wattage. Cormoran couldn’t say no to one of Robin’s smiles, and Claire clearly couldn’t either.

“I have two more tours to give today, but I’ve already taken down the listing,” she replied. “There’s enough interest, and honestly, Sid wants this rented out immediately, no use in it sitting around gathering dust.”

“Of course,” Robin said.

“But….” And now Claire was smiling back. “I’ll call you with an answer as soon as I can.”

“I look forward to it,” Robin said, and now they were at the front door. Robin stepped forward impulsively to give Claire a quick hug. “It was lovely to meet you, and I can’t wait to hear back!”

“You too!” Claire seemed surprised but charmed. “I promise not to take too long.”

“Thanks so much,” Robin said as Cormoran opened the door, nodding to Claire on his way out.

Ascending the stairs as the door closed behind them, Robin sighed. “I love it,” she said to Cormoran’s broad back. “I think it’s perfect.”

“It’s good,” Cormoran said awkwardly. “Did you notice she called me your fiance?”

“What?”

“Yeah,” he said, scratching the back of his neck as he turned to face her.

“Oh,” Robin replied. “Well, easy enough mistake to make, I suppose. I’m so used to having a fiance I guess I didn’t hear it.” A cloud drew across her face, and Cormoran sought for a way to clear it.

“We don’t have to be anywhere until 3, what was that restaurant you wanted to try?”

“The place I spotted while I was tailing that terrible old harridan’s husband? Oh, good memory! Let’s get some lunch.”

And as Cormoran followed Robin toward the tube station, he thought about being her fiance, and what that entailed, and found that he wasn't scared of it at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I imagine Claire as Jenna-Louise Coleman, personally.


	3. windchime

Cormoran gazed around at the boxes lining the side of Robin’s sitting room, stacked two and three high.

“There it is, the sum total of my life so far,” Robin said, puffing as she dropped another box onto the pile.

“Somehow I feel like there should be more boxes,” Cormoran said without thinking.

“What are you implying, then?” She grinned at him, taking the sting from her words.

Cormoran didn’t say anything, instead reaching his arm out so that Robin could walk into the wrap of him, leaning her head against his shoulder.

“It’s really happening, isn’t it.”

“Yeah,” he said, inhaling the sweet smell of her shampoo. “We’re really doing it.”

“And you’re not-?” The look she tilted up at him held many possible ends to her sentence: worried it’s too soon? Scared we’re making a mistake? Feeling pressured? Going to resent me?

“No,” he said, to all of these questions. “Robin, love, I want this.”

“Good.” Her smile made him feel weak and warm, every time. “I’m glad.”

“Me too,” he said, leaning to press a kiss to her forehead. 

“What do you want for supper?” she asked, slipping from his arms towards her tiny kitchen. It was looking especially bare now that she’d packed up the bits she wasn’t keeping to be dropped off to charity. 

“Is it going to be carryout again?” Cormoran asked, thumping down onto the couch. He loved Robin’s couch, and had insisted they keep it for the shared apartment they’d be inhabiting by the end of next week. He pressed the button beneath the arm of the chair to pop out the footrest, letting the ache of his leg be soothed by the elevation.

“Unless you want the last of the pizza, or pasta, which is all I’ve got at this point,” Robin called. “I suppose I could manage something with the potatoes I’ve got left?”

Cormoran considered this for a moment, then shrugged. “Whatever you want to do, I suppose. Not like another night of curry will hurt us.”

“Hardly,” Robin replied, dropping down beside him, holding the menu for the Indian place near her flat. “I won’t miss much about this place, but I will miss Vijay. He’s always so prompt.”

“It’s a bit far from our new flat, yeah,” Cormoran said. It felt strange to say those words aloud still, but a good kind of strange, an exciting and nervous kind of strange. It made Cormoran feel very young sometimes.

“Ah well. We can order from that place you like.”

“They do a wonderful lamb,” Cormoran sighed. “Plenty of veg.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Robin laughed, turning to drop her head into his lap. She held up the menu. “Want to try something new, or do favorites?”

They’d made a pact to try new things at least once every three orders, one night in the office. They’d been getting the same things from the same places for too long, Robin had said, and needed to shake things up. Cormoran had agreed, and a tradition had been born; even now, a year later, they tried to order different things sometimes.

“Favorites,” Cormoran said decisively. “You don’t want to miss out on one of your last chances to do an Alleppey Prawn, do you?”

“Ooh, you’re right,” Robin sighed, turning to nuzzle the curve of his stomach. “Can you call? I don’t want to move. I hate packing.”

“Of course, love,” Cormoran said, smiling down at her. He placed the order while Robin closed her eyes, humming one of the songs on her productivity playlist. Cormoran had a vague thought that it was a Spice Girls song.

A gust of wind rattled the windows, and Robin sighed. “I’m going to miss my windchime.”

“Why’s that?” Cormoran asked, hanging up his mobile. “Vijay will be here in under 20 minutes, I should think.”

“Good, I’m famished.”

“So why will you miss your windchime?”

“Corm,” Robin said, with a hint of her endless good humour, “in a basement flat, where on earth will I be hanging a windchime from? There’s precious few windows, and certainly none that will catch a breeze.”

“Ah,” Cormoran said. He liked Robin’s windchime; it had been a gift from her godfather, and it was a cheerful thing, pink and yellow with birds dangling from a sun. 

“Ah well,” she said. “I love our flat, it’s perfect in almost every way. What’s one small thing?”

“You could hang it inside,” Cormoran offered. “I wouldn’t mind. It’s, y’know. It’s sweet.”

“Really?” Robin pulled herself upright to look at him, and oh, her smile still gave him that tight feeling in his chest. “You think my windchime’s sweet?”

“Yeah,” Cormoran shrugged, trying to play it off. “Was a gift, and it’s nice to have reminders of family around.” Neither of them said anything about the almost total lack of such items in Cormoran’s flat.

“You big softie,” she said, leaning in to wrap an arm around his neck and smush her face against his cheek. “You’re wonderful. I love you.”

“I love you too,” he said, turning to kiss her.

She pulled back just a touch, to smile at him once more. “You know, if you’d told me a year ago where I’d be today, I wouldn’t have believed you.”

A year ago, they’d been coworkers, partners, nothing more. Emphatically nothing more.

“And two years ago?” Cormoran asked, probing despite knowing he probably shouldn’t.

She laughed, though, surprising him. She always managed to surprise him. 

“Two years ago, I was firmly convinced that Matthew was the be-all, end-all of my life. If someone told me I’d be moving in with my boss, I’d have thought they were mental.”

“They might have been right,” he teased her. “This whole thing might be absolutely mental. A complete and total disaster.”

He did not acknowledge, not even to himself, the undercurrent of fear that he was right, that this was going to mess up everything good about what they’d built together.

“Maybe it is,” Robin said. “It could be. But we won’t know unless we try, yeah?” She leaned in, pressing her forehead to his cheek. “And I want to try.”

“Yeah,” Cormoran said, his throat tight. “Yeah. You’re right.”

“Aren’t I usually?” she asked, prodding him with a finger to the ribs. “I was right about that woman’s husband, wasn’t I?”

“What, the woman who wore loud orange lipstick? Or the one with the alligator handbag?”

“Well, I was right about them both, wasn’t I?” She grinned at him, and Cormoran felt once more that he wanted this, every night, for the rest of his life.

“You did,” he said, smiling back. She scrunched up her nose at him.

“Why don’t you take your leg off, and I’ll get us a drink,” Robin said, seeing how Cormoran was trying to adjust himself to take the weight off.

“And that, Robin Ellacott, is why I love you,” Cormoran said. 

“I know,” she replied, getting up and patting his shoulder. “Honestly, what would you do without me?”

And Cormoran, pulling up his trouser leg to start unhooking his damn prosthetic, found he had no desire to ever find the answer to that question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, we all know where this is going, don't we. (You're welcome.)


	4. warmth

Packing up his few belongings hadn’t taken Cormoran very long; he’d moved into his tiny flat with little more than his duffel and the two boxes Charlotte had sent, and had accumulated almost nothing since.

Robin had insisted on “personalizing” his space, and had somehow joined forces with Lucy without his noticing, so he now had a few framed photographs, some knicknacks, an Arsenal scarf pinned up on the wall. But after Robin sorted out the things she thought unnecessary for their new space, and Cormoran saved a favorite if chipped mug and a few shirts with sentimental value, it all amounted to about six big boxes, two small ones, and his trusty duffel.

She had her hands on her hips, surveying the tiny flat as though a new pile of belongings might suddenly appear in a corner.

“You really do travel light, don’t you?” Robin asked, as Cormoran finished bagging up the rubbish.

He shrugged. “Not much call for things, the life I’ve lived.”

“Well,” Robin said, “maybe now you can own more than six button-down shirts.”

“Oi, that’s enough for the week and one for Sunday,” he said, an argument as comfortable and well-worn as his wardrobe.

“Mm,” Robin replied noncommittally. “Well, when Nick comes ‘round, I think the only thing that might give you lads pause is that recliner.”

“Ah,” Cormoran said intelligently. “Hmm.”

It had taken two hours and three brews apiece to get the damn thing up the stairs; Cormoran had slept many a night in the battered old thing, and had refused to give it up. Robin had simply shrugged.

“Perhaps we ought to call someone else to help?” she offered casually. “My friend Noelle’s got a brother, I’m sure we could bribe him into coming.”

Cormoran examined this statement for ulterior motives, and couldn’t find any. “I don’t think we need anyone else,” he said stubbornly. “Nick and I can handle my flat.”

“Right, of course,” Robin said. “Well, he’ll be here soon, yeah? I’ll head back to my place and sort out the transport.”

He smiled at her, and the smile she gave back to him lit up her face, her whole body. 

“We’re doin’ it, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she smiled, coming up to him. “We’re really doing it.”

He leaned down the scant inches to kiss her, and she sighed, wrapping her arms around his bulk.

“Doesn’t feel real yet, does it?”

“It will, tonight,” she replied. “When we’re trying to get the bed set up and eating carryout while sitting on the floor.”

He leaned back, looked her in the eyes. “Sounds good to me.”

“Yeah?” She looked unaccountably nervous. “I know you said this might be a mistake, and I don’t want you to change your mind, or feel like-”

“Robin,” he said, pressing a kiss to her hair, leaning down into her. “Love, this is what I want. How many times have I said that?”

“A lot,” she sighed, nuzzling his shoulder and pressing a kiss there. 

“And do I say things I don’t mean?”

“Only to clients,” she replied, a hint of her impish good humor reasserting itself.

“What cheek! Get out of here, go take care of your flat, and I’ll meet you at our new nest.”

“Corm,” she said, scrunching up her nose at him as she walked towards the door, “you know I hate it when you call it that.”

“Robins belong in nests,” he said again, trying not to smile. She rolled her eyes, now nearly gone.

Cormoran took a deep breath and went on. “Also, we’re not married, so it’s a love nest, right?”

She looked back at him, and he couldn’t read her at all, suddenly. “I wouldn’t think that would bother you,” she said finally.

“It doesn’t,” he said immediately. “Or, well. Ah. Not that.”

“Then what are you saying, Corm?” She folded her arms, but not in the way that told him to step off, more in the way she did when she was fighting to not show her emotions.

“Robin,” he said, “love, I was thinking.” 

“About?”

“About… well. I thought it might be too soon. But we’re moving in together, and that’s a big step for anyone, but I think especially for you, and for me, so for us…”

“Cormoran, get the point,” she said.

“I was thinking about wanting to marry you,” he said all at once.

She looked at him, and he was afraid to assume her expression was hopeful.

“You were thinking about… wanting to marry me?”

“I think I do,” he said, now committed to this course of action. “I think I would like to. Marry you. At some point, not right away, of course. But that’s what… well, that’s where these things go, right? That’s what people do. They get married.”

“So, do you want to marry me? Or you you think you should ought to marry me?”

He held out one arm, open, an invitation. “Robin, when I think of the future, I always see you there. I can’t imagine doing this with anyone else.”

“Doing this?” She took a step closer, coming back into the bare flat.

“This. All of it. Our business, our life together… Robin, it’s everything to me. And I want,” he took a deep breath. “I want people to know that. I want you to know that. Robin Ellacott, I want to marry you.”

She looked at him, and it was certainly hope in her eyes, apprehension and love commingled. “You do?”

“Yeah,” he said. There was a feeling spreading through his body, a warmth and a relief, that gave him the curious sensation of weightlessness. “And if you want to marry a big ugly bloke with one leg who smokes and drinks too much, well, I’ll be the luckiest man on earth.”

Robin took a gasping breath, her hand coming up to cover her mouth, and now she looked about ready to cry, and Cormoran reached out to her. She came rushing into his arms, nearly knocking him off balance, as she took another gasping breath.

“Yes,” she said, her face buried in his shoulder. “Yes, I want to marry you, Cormoran Strike, you absolute arse, of course I want to marry you.”

“Yeah?” Cormoran asked, almost lightheaded now. “Yeah?”

“Of course,” she said, thumping him on the shoulder. “Yes, yes, of course.”

He leaned back to press a kiss to her laughing lips, then another, and another. “I didn’t think-”

“That I would say yes? You buffoon,” she said fondly, kissing him back, her hands coming up to cup his scruffy face.

“Robin, you are- the most wonderful- the smartest- the most beautiful-” he was saying, kissing her.

“Cormoran Strike, did you really think I’d say no?” she laughed, wiping her eyes. 

“I didn’t think- I thought it might be too soon,” he said.

“Maybe,” she said. “But I don’t care.”

He grinned at her, his broad face filled with the closest thing to joy she’d ever seen. “Me neither,” he said. “Me neither.”

“So,” Robin said finally, still wrapped in his arms. “Are we… was that a proposal?”

Cormoran stiffened. He had been so wrapped up in worry about whether or not she’d say yes that he hadn’t considered what would happen if she did.

“No,” he said, decisively. “I can do better than that for a proposal, I should think.”

She laughed again, a bit tearfully. “Corm, you really do have hidden romantic depths, don’t you.”

“Only for you, love,” he said, kissing her once more. “Now you’d really better go, I’ve made you late, I think.”

“Oh, I’ll just take a cab,” she said. “Don’t you dare apologize, that was… don’t apologize for that.”

“Then I won’t,” he said. “Off with you, I’ll see you at our nest tonight.”

“Oh,” she said, pausing at the door to hitch her bag strap onto her shoulder, “now I can’t even hate that name, can I?”

He just smiled at her, eyes crinkled, and she blew him a kiss as she clattered down the stairs.

Cormoran just stood there, in a bit of a daze, until Nick came and knocked.

“You’re not answering your mobile, mate, so I just took the liberty of coming on up. The van’s idling out front, are you ready to go?”

Cormoran turned to look at his friend. “Robin’s said she’s going to marry me,” he said, still feeling weightless.

“Has she? Congrats, mate! Ilsa’ll be chuffed,” Nick said coming in to thump Strike on the back. “C’mon, you can tell me about it while we get this lot down. How’d you propose? When did you get the ring?”

“Oh, fuck. Propose. Ring. Fuck.”

At the look of sheer consternation on Cormoran’s face, Nick could only laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: a proper proposal, and resolution!


	5. interlude: time flies

Robin and Cormoran, unpacking boxes, arranging bookshelves, stacking dishes, began to find the ways that they slotted together, began smoothing out some of the rough edges.

Two nights in, once the bed was reassembled and Robin had laughingly ordered him to stay put in “that damn recliner, since it’s the reason you can barely stand in the first place,” Cormoran offered her the spare bedroom.

“You ought to have your own private work space, and since you can’t have one at the office, you can have one here,” he said.

“Corm, are you sure? We can share, it’s big enough for both of us!”

“I won’t say no to having a desk in house, but you should have your own space, love, that’s just for you. It’s important to have a place where you can close the door and I can’t go.”

She kissed him, and smiled, and took him at his word. Her happiness in having a room to decorate and arrange precisely as she liked had been worth knowing that he would have to haul himself the six blocks to the office to be in his own workspace. Being further from the office- Robin had started calling it their headquarters- had been a sacrifice on the outset, but Cormoran found that the quality of his life had increased exponentially once he moved in with Robin. For one thing, he ate far less takeout.

Now that she was once more cooking for two people, Robin found herself enjoying spending time in the kitchen; it was impossible not to smile when Cormoran so clearly appreciated what she managed to make.

She called her mother, writing down recipes on notecards to store the way her grandmother had, spending some of her free time looking for new things to try. The night she made her first proper lasagna was a triumph. 

“And you made the sauce yourself?” Cormoran said, his mouth full, impressed.

“Well, mostly from scratch,” Robin demurred, but she ate plenty and decided to try it again, but with more garlic next time. (Cormoran liked Italian food, so long as it “tasted right.” Robin was determined to figure out what that meant. A lot of the time, it meant “with more garlic.”)

Of course, they still got plenty of takeaway, and found a new Ethiopian place close by they both adored, but eating home-cooked meals regularly was soothing for Robin and a novelty for Cormoran. 

There were other things, of course, that were a novelty to Robin.

Two weeks in, she was stunned to come in from tailing a client’s new girlfriend to find Cormoran casually sitting on the sofa, folding his laundry.

“What’s wrong, love? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost,” Cormoran said, tossing a neat bundle of socks into his hamper.

“I’m just… I wasn’t expecting, ah. This,” Robin said, unwinding her scarf from around her neck. It had just begun to get a bit chill in the late afternoons. 

“What, expecting me to do my own laundry?” Cormoran asked sardonically, snapping a shirt flat so he could fold it into a even rectangle. “How did you think I managed before we lived together?”

Robin flushed. “I always did Matthew’s laundry,” she said. “I don’t know, I suppose I just assumed…”

“Robin,” Cormoran said, eyes crinkled, “you’re my girlfriend, not my maid. I can handle my own washing. Unless you’re offering?”

“Ah, no,” she said, and smiled as he laughed. “I think you fold better than I do, to be quite honest.”

“Well, the military takes these things quite seriously,” he said, going back to the rerun of Flying Circus. “Second nature by now.”

Robin, walking back through the sitting area to the dining table, found herself reevaluating her life with Matthew, and finding it even more wanting than previously thought. 

In other ways, though, they found themselves at odds on issues completely unforeseen.

“Absolutely not, Cormoran! I don’t want that in my home!”

“I thought it was our home?” he asked, leaning on the top of the desk.

“It _is_ our home, which means we both have to okay it, and I am absolutely not okay with it. For god’s sake, Corm, it’s street furniture!”

“And it’s free, which is well without our budget, Robin.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Honestly, Corm, I know you want a new desk, and I know money's a bit tight, but couldn’t we try the secondhand shops first? You don’t know how long that’s been out. There could be insects nesting in it, or something.”

Cormoran shook his head. Robin was clearly not going to be budged on the topic of street furniture, despite it having been a reliable source of decor for much of his life.

Well, perhaps it was time to stop reverting to those old habits, after all. 

“Yeah, I suppose you're right,” Cormoran said regretfully, stepping away from the battered old desk. He ran his fingers over the scarred surface, tracing the carved initials in the corner. “Anyway, Lucy’d have a fit if she found out I’d been bringing back more things off the street.”

“That’s right,” Robin said, relieved. “And don’t think I wouldn’t tell her.”

“You two,” Cormoran said, sliding his arm around her shoulders as they resumed the walk home, “honestly, the world ought to tremble if you’re joining forces.”

And when, the following weekend, Lucy took them out to the row of secondhand shops so they could have the use of her car’s capacious cargo space, Cormoran found their friendship heartening.

Lucy had always hated Charlotte, had tried to hide it, but she and Robin got on like a house on fire. They wandered about, chatting about color schemes and tape measures and possibly feng shui, and Cormoran resigned himself to picking out a new desk while his sister and girlfriend decorated the rest of the apartment.

“What d’ya need a mirror for?” Cormoran asked, as Lucy and Robin packed up their haul. He was trying not to think about the hole this had put in their budget for the month.

“You don’t like it? I was thinking I’d hang it in the nursery, set up a space to do my makeup and all,” Robin said, looking at her reflection in the silver surface. It was cheerful, shaped like a fat sun with short, curvy beams, and Cormoran could see the windchime echoed in it.

“That sounds nice. But you ought to call it your office, not the nursery, or everyone’s going to think we’re pregnant,” he said softly into her hair. They hadn’t talked about children yet, and Cormoran was nervous to bring up the subject at all.

She bumped his leg with her hip. “They’ll all think that as soon as you buy me a ring, no matter what I call that room, just you watch,” she said, teasingly. “Anyway, the circus animals are still up, and I just can’t think of it as anything else.”

“I’ll get them down tomorrow,” Cormoran swore, as Lucy started the car. 

It may have taken a week, but he did get around to it eventually.

As their space began to fill with furniture and art and pillows and rugs and all the little domestic touches that he’d always associated with Lucy, Cormoran began to understand his sister a bit better. There was something grounding about it, having a place that felt real, settled, not just a place to sleep but a place to spend time, to live.

“I like living with you,” Cormoran said aloud one night, abruptly.

“Oh?” Robin said, startled. A smile curved its amused way up her face. “Well, I should hope so, seeing as our lease isn’t up for nearly ten months.”

“No, I mean… well, yeah, obviously.” He scratched his beard. “I mean that… I feel like this is… well, it’s a home. It’s, y’know, _our_ home. And I like that. I like… this.” He waved his hand to encompass himself in his recliner, Robin on the couch, the photos in their frames, the graceful blue lamp she’d bought at the street market a few weeks back, the drink coasters her friend Noelle had given them as a flat-warming gift. 

Robin scooted to the other end of the couch, to be closer to him, and leaned her chin on her arm.

“I like this too, Corm. It’s… easy, living with you. Natural.”

“Yeah,” he said, relieved. “Exactly.”

“Good,” she said, smiling.

“Good,” he repeated. “Yeah.”

The silence turned awkward, expectant. Robin seemed waiting for him to say something else; Cormoran couldn’t think of what he should say. If this was a test, he couldn’t think of what.

After a moment, Robin got up, picking up their empty mugs. “I’m going to put these to wash, unless you want more,” she said as she padded towards the kitchen. Cormoran leaned his screen so that she wouldn’t be able to see the photos of engagement rings open on his laptop.

“No, I’m fine,” he called, looking at one. His eye kept catching on it. “I’m perfect.” They had taken on not one but two new clients in the past week; he put the ring in his virtual shopping cart.

“I’ve got the itch to bake something tonight, any requests?” Robin called from the kitchen.

“This wouldn’t be tied to celebrating the end of Elastic’s case, would it?” Cormoran called teasingly. Their client had had the nervous habit of snapping a elastic band, the sort found wrapped around produce, against his wrist, which he claimed was because he was trying to give up smoking; Robin had detested him.

“I can neither confirm nor deny the accusations,” Robin said smoothly from the doorway. “Also, I’ve got a paper due in for my methodology course in three days, and I’m hoping doing something else will convince my brain to percolate the information so I can finish the bloody thing.”

Cormoran smiled at her; she was taking a course or two a semester, with vague plans to finish her degree at some point, and it had resulted in some very strange conversations on the tube and some truly wonderful baked goods. 

“Those cream cheese cookies were good,” he offered. “With the pecans?”

“Hmm, too simple,” she said. “I want something that takes concentration.”

And oh, how he loved this woman who sought out challenges, who had stopped backing down. “A pie?”

“Oh, a pie, brilliant,” she said, coming towards him. Cormoran casually closed his laptop as he turned to kiss her. “I’ll just nip out, how about a pecan pie? Since you mentioned it.”

“Alright,” he said, watching as she pulled on a coat, hat, scarf. “Don’t stay up too late baking, though, we have that new client coming in tomorrow morning.”

She wrinkled her nose at him. “It’s one of those posh men who keep referring each other, and they always want to call me your secretary and leer at my chest,” she complained. “Can’t you just handle him? I get tired of that nonsense.”

“Oh,” Cormoran said. “Yeah, sure, love.”

“Thanks, babe,” she said cheerily. “Back in a bit.”

As the door was pulled shut behind her, and Cormoran tucked his Arsenal blanket more firmly about himself against the chill, he thought that he ought to speed up the engagement thing. Well, they’d been discussing marriage, on and off, and Christmas was coming up; he pulled out his mobile to text Nick, and on second thought, Lucy as well. 

To pull off an engagement worthy of Robin, he would admit to needing a touch of help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter count's only gone up by ONE; next chapter is the engagement! The ladies contributed some extra prompt words for this chapter; you'll find _scarred, reflection, Italian,_ and _test_ tucked in this one. Also, for the curious, [an image of the floor plan I'm imagining is available on my blog.](http://lovebeyondmeasure.tumblr.com/post/169016480819)


	6. blood (an engagement)

Convincing Robin to accept his proposal had been miles easier than convincing her to host a Christmas party in their new flat.

“What is it about the idea of our friends and families seeing our home that so upsets you?” he finally asked one night, taking a bite out of the ham casserole Robin had made them for dinner.

“‘S not that!” Robin protested, twisting her napkin ‘round her finger. Her mum had sent them a set of proper cloth napkins as a gift “for their new home,” and they somehow appeared at dinnertime every night.

“Then what is it? Honestly, Robin, I really thought if we were having this argument, we’d be the other way ‘round.”

Robin laughed, a bit shakily. “That does seem more like us, doesn’t it? I don’t know, Corm, I just… I like that this is our space.”

“It’ll still be our space if we have people over, yeah?”

“Yeah, I suppose so.” Robin sighed, taking a bite and chewing. Cormoran could see the wheels turning in her head, and forbore further comment in favor of focusing on the food.

“You know what, you’re right, I’m being silly,” Robin said finally. “Let’s do it.”

“Yeah?” Cormoran asked, wanting her to be sure of her decision. 

“Yeah,” she said firmly. “It’ll be nice. And Mum’s practically been begging to come visit, now that she’s got the free time.”

“D’you mind if I invite my aunt and uncle? Lucy’s been talking about having them for a visit, and it’d be nice to introduce you.”

“What, your Aunt Joan and Uncle Ted? Yeah, yeah, I’d like to meet them, since you speak so highly of them.”

Robin beamed at him, pleased by this new willingness to share one of the few parts of his past he’d kept with her. He did that more often these days, since she’d said she’d marry him, as though he finally felt secure enough to let her in.

“And you can invite your friends, from your krav maga class, if you like,” Cormoran said. 

“It’ll be a right do,” Robin said thoughtfully. “How close to Christmas are you thinking?”

“Well,” Cormoran said, as though he hadn’t been planning this in secret for a few weeks now, “I was thinking that it’s harder for people to travel near Christmas, so what me might ought to do is have a pre-Christmas party. A tree-decorating party, maybe.”

As he’d thought, Robin seemed delighted by this premise. “Oh! How fun! And we can have a tree! I thought, since we were planning to go to Masham, we wouldn’t do that here.”

Cormoran had been relieved to have a reason to avoid Lucy’s family on Christmas; Greg was a ponce, and the boys stressed him out. And the Ellacotts were good people who never asked for the gory or glamourous details of his life. But the idea of spending the holiday snug with his Robin in their nest had been growing on him.

“Well, we won’t be going until the 23rd, and I can’t imagine you’d be happy without a tree until then,” Cormoran said, teasing her a bit. She grinned and snapped her napkin at him playfully.

“Fair enough, ‘s long as we can have a real tree,” she said. 

“Yeah,” Cormoran said, smiling into his drink. “I think we can manage that.”

The next two weeks were busy; their client roster had grown, and Robin couldn’t stop laughing over the new trend that rich people seemed to have of hiring investigators to figure out what their spouses wanted for Christmas. She took great joy in combing through women’s lives to pick out the perfect piece of jewelry or the best car, or once, even the right new villa. 

While he was out on some of their more usual assignments, Corm took the chance to arrange all the moving parts so that the party would go off according to plan.

He arranged for the ring to be delivered to Lucy, and let his sister deal with the wrapping, so that he wouldn’t give it all away. He sent off invitations to a good number of their mutual friends and family, as well as a few other people, and dealt with the RSVPs. Robin was, in fact, shocked, by how much care he was putting in to the planning.

“You know, this is not what I expected when you said you wanted to have a Christmas do-up,” Robin said one night, as Cormoran working busily on his laptop- which involved very slow typing. She’d offered to do it twice already.

“Why, did you think I’d leave it all up to you to plan it? Nah, Robin, this was my idea,” Cormoran said, not looking up from where he was working on an email to her father, asking for the older man to bring the tree. Real Christmas trees were much dearer in the city than in Masham.

“I feel as though I learn you a little more every day, Cormoran Strike,” Robin said, smiling at him. 

“What can I say, I’m a man of many talents,” he replied, looking up to smile back at her. 

“I just didn’t realize event planning was one of them,” she laughed. He suppressed a wince; in fact, it really wasn’t one of his talents, but he wanted this to go according to plan. He wanted it to go perfectly.

He’d asked Robin to be in charge of the food and the decorations, which she took to with a will; by the time the morning of the party rolled around, in early-ish December, the flat looked like a Christmas wonderland, and smelled delicious.

“This is incredible, love,” Cormoran said, dropping a kiss on her head as they stood together, surveying the rooms. She and her friends from krav maga, Noelle and Aimee, had spent the previous day rearranging their furniture and baking, and Cormoran was impressed by what they had managed.

“Well, Aimee was a treasure when we were figuring out how to get the space for the tree,” Robin demurred. “But it does look nice. How many people are we expecting?”

“Ah,” Cormoran coughed. “About twenty? Could get up to twenty-five, maybe, but probably twenty.”

“Cormoran Blue!” Robin exclaimed. “Do we even know twenty-five people?” She was laughing, so Cormoran knew she wasn’t really upset. He’d been surprised, himself, when compiling the list and sending out emails, at how many people he deemed worth inviting into this new home, how many had had said yes, of course they’d be there.

There was something warming about the fact that they had such a network of people who supported and loved them, which Cormoran had never really considered himself as having before. Being with Robin was opening his eyes to the many ways he’d cut himself off from people in the past.

“Alright,” she was saying. “So my mum and dad, and Jonathan and Martin, plus Noelle and her brother and Aimee and her girlfriend, that’s eight. Lucy and Greg, but not the boys, there’s ten. And your aunt and uncle, twelve, plus Nick and Ilsa, of course, fourteen, but who else?”

“Shanker’s probably not coming,” he said, “but he said he’d stop by next week. Ah, your brother’s bringing his girlfriend. My friend Chum’s in town, so he’s coming- he’ll like you.” 

“Oh, good,” she said with a touch of irony. “So that’s what, sixteen? Who else?”

“Well, I invited Claire,” he said, “seeing as how you two got on so well.”

“Oh! Really?” She seemed pleased, which was a relief. Cormoran had felt a bit odd inviting her, but she and Robin had spent quite a bit of time together during the rental and moving process, and he knew they’d stayed in loose touch.

“Yeah, she said she wanted to see the place when we were all settled, so I figured, y’know, this was a good chance to do that,” he shrugged. 

“Well it’s sweet,” Robin said. “Don’t let me forget to put the roast in, would you? If I’m feeding twenty-odd people, I need to whip up some more sides.”

“More food?” Cormoran raised his eyebrows. “I should think you could feed an army with what you’re already made.”

Robin laughed. “You do remember how much food my brothers can put away, yeah? Better safe than sorry, Corm!”

He sighed, sitting at their table, which had been pushed against the wall to make more room. Yeah. Better safe than sorry.

There was a wellspring of nervous energy in his chest; he hadn’t been sure that proposing like this would be the right thing to do, but Lucy had been sure.

“That’s a girl who loves her family, Stick,” she’d said. “And you’ve already talked about it, and she’s already said yes, so you’re hardly springing a trap. She’ll be thrilled, and she’ll never expect you to do it like this, so it’ll be a great surprise.”

Cormoran thought some of Lucy’s insistence might be due to the fact she wanted to witness it, but kept that to himself. She and Robin had spent quite a bit of time together, over the past year; he didn’t think Lucy would steer him wrong on a matter she herself considered so important. 

He took a deep breath. “D’you want me to stick around and help, or is there anything else I can do?” he called into the kitchen. Robin’s head popped back into view. 

“Could you get our bedroom cleaned up? I was thinking we could put coats and all in there, and my office is clean if we need more space, but I don’t need any comments from my mum about the state of our room,” she said. 

“Sure, love,” he replied. “I’ve got to tail that student for a few hours, but I’ll be back by three.”

“Alright,” she said cheerfully. “I’ll text you if we need anything before you get home.”

As he stood, Cormoran felt that familiar pleasant warmth that always accompanied Robin calling this their home. It was, in many ways, the first proper _home_ he’d known in… well, a very long time. No wonder his sister had pushed him so long about this.

As much as he would never admit it, there might have been some truth to her nagging about wives and houses. 

Cleaning their room took very little time, really, considering his inherent neatness and Robin’s tendency to clean and redecorate when she needed to clear her head. Once the bed was made, the laundry in its proper hampers, and it was dusted and vacuumed, Cormoran figured he might as well do the rest of the place before he left.

Robin came out of the kitchen to see him moving chairs to get at the carpet beneath. Cormoran only saw her when she slipped in front of him to slide her hand around his face, pull him down, and kiss him soundly. He let go of the vacuum to wrap his arms around her, dipping her back and he kissed her properly and thoroughly.

She whacked his shoulder with her hand, laughing into the kiss. “Let me up, you!” she said, kissing him. Grinning, he set her upright, tucking her hair back behind her ear.

“Sorry,” she said unapologetically, speaking to be heard over the vacuum still roaring away behind her. “You know what seeing you do housework unasked does to me.”

“I know,” he said lowly, leaning to kiss her again. She danced away, back towards the kitchen. 

“Back to work, you, and maybe when you’re done I’ll come find you again,” she called, and he could see a sweet pink flush on her cheeks; he took to his self-appointed tasks with a will, and was perhaps later to tailing the student than he’d planned on.

He spent his time sitting in the bakery across from the library the student preferred. The student was a young Saudi man whose father was paying them a truly impressive sum of money to follow his son and ensure that not only was he studying, he was not “consorting with unsuitable women.” Robin had been shocked, and neither was sure how the father had decided to hire them, but they couldn’t turn down the pay.

Cormoran kept one eye on the door and the other coordinating the party. Last-minute texts and emails can in, asking if he wanted them to bring anything, where the easiest parking was, which tube line to take. He sorted things out, followed the student back to his oversized apartment, then took the tube home.

Cormoran came into his apartment to see a few people had already arrived, and they were making a commotion.

“Oi, what’s going on?” he asked a woman who was standing by the couch. He didn’t recognize her, but she wasn’t shouting, so it seemed like the best place to start.

“Oh, Noelle went in to help Robin with the mashed potatoes and somehow she nicked her brother with the knife and now everyone’s shouting about badanges,” the woman said, turning to look at him. “You’re a big bloke, then, you must be Cormoran. I’m Shresta, Aimee’s girlfriend.” She put her hand out to shake.

She had a firm grip, and made direct eye contact with him easily despite her shorter stature; Cormoran decided Aimee had good taste in women. 

“Pleasure,” he said. “Well, sounds like it’s calming down in there, best go see if there’s anything I’m needed for.” Shresta nodded, with a little smile on her mouth.

The crowd in their kitchen made the space seem small. “Everything all right in here?” 

“Corm!” Robin emerged, relieved to see him. “You’re on time, thank goodness. My da called, they’re on their way with the tree, and can you help them? I think Lenny was planning to help, but he’s hurt now.”

The man who came over was the only one who could be Lenny, and now Cormoran could see why Robin had offered to call him in to help them move. Only a few centimeters shorter than Cormoran himself, Lenny was muscled like an ox and clearly saw the inside of a gym more often than Strike did.

“‘M Lenny, Noelle’s brother,” the man said, extending a hand. It had a large bandage wrapped around three fingers, but Cormoran didn’t hesitate to shake it. “Sorry ‘bout the hand, m’sister’s a bit of a menace in the kitchen.”

“Pipe down, you,” Noelle said, coming to punch him fondly in the shoulder. “Go sit with Aimee’s girlfriend, she roots for West Ham and you two can have a go at it.”

“Gimme a shout if you need help,” Lenny said, nodding to Cormoran and the woman as he left the kitchen. Over his shoulder, Cormoran could see where the incident had occurred; there was a spatter of blood and the knife lay forgotten on the floor.

“Alright, Robin love, out of the kitchen,” he said, reaching out to lay a kiss on her cheek. “Noelle and I are going to clean this up, and you’re going to go shower, since I know you’ve not left yourself enough time for one.”

She made an offended noise, but conceded. 

“Don’t forget to take out the roast!” she called as she went to the bedroom. “And turn down the heat on the beans when they start to bubble!”

“I’ll handle it,” Noelle said, laughing. “Go, go!”

Once he heard the water running, Cormoran left the food in Noelle’s capable hands and went to change his own clothes, switching from clothing meant to be unnoticable to a pair of nice slacks and the sweater Robin had given him last Christmas. It was a cheerful pattern, richly green entwined with a deep blue, and he’d rarely loved a single item of clothing more.

Aimee arrived not long after that, and then Robin’s parents, and Cormoran found himself in such a whirlwind of events, wrestling the tree inside, getting it set on the stand, greeting the early arrivals, finding places for people to put the gifts they’d brought, that he hardly noticed how long Robin was taking to rejoin them.

Nearly half their guests had arrived when she finally emerged from her office, and when she did, Cormoran felt as though he’d been punched in the chest; she absolutely took his breath away.

She’s done her hair half-up, so that it hung in tendrils about her face without being in her way, and she was wearing a clinging dress of deep red velvet that made her look- well, his first thought was “edible.”

She stood and laughed at his gobsmacked expression. 

“You look-” he managed. God, he was so utterly lost on this woman.

She gave them all a twirl, and her mother applauded as she went to hug her daughter, and them things resumed, greetings and gifts and the smell of food mingling with the clean aroma of the freshly-cut tree, standing proud against one wall.

Cormoran realized, as he shook hands with Robin’s father, that he hadn’t asked the man’s permission. Hard on the heels of that thought was that Robin might be incensed if he did; and on that thought, as they made pleasant conversation and Cormoran showed him to where the drinks were, that Michael Ellacott clearly liked Cormoran and that he should stop worrying. 

The invitations had said the party started “around 5,” but by 4:30 most of the guests had arrived and things were festive, drinks being poured and music playing under the conversation.

The invites had also suggested that, as this was a tree-decorating party, guests should forgo more traditional gifts in favor of either a drink to share or an ornament for the tree; from the pile of boxes and gift bags piled up, it looked as though many had brought both.

Cormoran dug down into himself to bring out the charming, playful self he’d managed for Charlotte’s cohort on occasion, and found to his surprise that it really wasn’t hard at all. The people filling his flat were genuinely happy to be there, to chat and compare stories. He saw Robin introducing Ilsa to Noelle and Aimee, saw Greg making some sort of small talk with Robin’s brother Jonathan. His aunt and uncle had arrived late, but Aunt Joan seemed to be catching up with Lucy, and his Uncle Ted was laughing at one of Chum’s stories.

For the first time, Cormoran found himself enjoying a family gathering, and found that his idea of what “family” meant had expanded. Nick and Ilsa were his family as much as Lucy was (and possibly more than Greg was), and certainly Robin regarded Noelle and Aimee with as much affection as she did her brother Martin and his girlfriend. 

This group of utterly dissaperate people, of all ages, many backgrounds, they were the people he cared about, the ones who cared about him.

“What’re you thinking about, then?” Robin asked, coming up alongside him. She set a glass in his hand, sipping her own with a smile. 

“Just thinking about how good a Christmas this is,” Cormoran said, taking a gulp of what turned out to be very nice scotch. 

“And his heart grew three sizes that day?” she quoted up at him.

“What are you- are you implying I’m the Grinch?” he asked. Her eyes sparkled with good humor and possibly makeup, and again Cormoran was struck by how impossibly lucky he was.

“Well, if the shoe fits…” she said, then giggled. “You can’t deny that you have some… grinch-like tendencies.”

He sighed and took another sip. She leaned her head against his shoulder.

“This was a good idea, Corm,” she said softly. “All our family in one place. It’s nice.”

“It is,” he said, throwing back the best of the glass. “Should we start decorating the tree soon, or do you want to eat first?”

She surveyed the room. “I think we could start decorating, then eat. People have eaten enough of the nibbles that they should be fine, and that way we won’t have to get everyone’s attention for the food.”

He took a deep breath. The moment, looming up ahead of him, felt overwhelming but right. So very right.

“Come on, then, let’s start.”

He went over to where Shresta was in wildly gesticulating conversation with Lenny and Robin’s brother Martin. 

“Oi, Hopalong!” Martin said cheerfully. “Come tell this lot how West Ham is going down!” Cormoran could see they’d been drinking, but only smiled.

“Actually, Robin and I were thinking we’d start putting up the gifts you lot brought, then we could all eat, yeah?”

“Oh, yes please!” Martin’s girlfriend, Camilla, said. “C’mon, Marty, let’s go over.”

Pleased, Cormoran could see Robin also directing people over towards the tree; slowly, conversations were breaking up as attention was directed elsewhere.

Robin beat him back, and she reached for a giftbag at random; Cormoran, making eye contact with Lucy, saw her attention move sharply towards a giftbox wrapped in sparkling silver, and casually set that aside. Robin was holding aloft a delicate glass star, cooing over it as it refracted the light.

“That’s from me!” Claire exclaimed happily. Cormoran hasn’t seen her come in, but there she was, standing next to a handsome Asian man he assumed was the boyfriend she’d mentioned. 

“It’s lovely, Claire, thank you!” Robin said, hanging it carefully at eye level. “Claire was the one who got us this flat,” she added in a confidential tone. “We love Claire.”

A bit of a rowdy cheer went up for the blushing Claire, and Cormoran could feel the bubbling of happy energy. Their friends and family were there to watch them succeed, to have a good time, to celebrate. The wellspring of nervous energy in his chest grew, but he focused on how very much he wanted this, how carefully he’d planned it, on how well things were going thus far.

The next box was from Robin’s parents; Linda handed it to her with a wink and a smile. A ceramic doorway, the wooden “door” swung slightly open, with the legend “new home” and the year painted on the lintel; Robin teared up a bit, thanking her parents, urging Cormoran to hang it up near the top. 

More boxes, more ornaments; cheerful snowmen, spun glass from Poland, not one but two different magnifying glasses, wooden snowflakes, a set of colorful metal flowers. One by one, the boxes were opened, the bags unpacked, the group oohing and ahhing and congratulating each other on having wonderful taste. 

At last, only one gift was left. Cormoran bent to retrieve it, handing the silver-wrapped box to Robin. “You open this one,” he urged her.

“Is it the last one? Oh, no, I opened more than you did! You do this one!” Robin insisted.

“No, this one’s for you,” he said. 

“If you say so,” she smiled. He could sense the crowd’s shifting attention, but didn’t say anything; enough of them knew what was happening that people stayed to watch.

The paper fell away, and Cormoran bent as if to pick it up as Robin lifted the lid of the box. Carefully, he got to one knee, balancing his prosthetic out behind him, as Robin gasped. 

Now people began to realize; a few gasps echoed Robin’s. She carefully lifted the contents of the box free, letting that, too, fall forgotten to the floor. She cradled the bird’s nest in one hand, looking down at him, tears rising to her eyes.

“Cormoran Blue, you didn’t,” she whispered. He looked up at her, nodding, biting his lip. 

The bird’s nest held a black velvet ring box. Now Aimee quietly reached over, letting Robin hand her the nest, take the ring box out.

“Robins belong in nests?” Robin said, tearily, rubbing her thumb over the nap of the box, and a few of the people who were now what could only be called an audience gasped or chuckled, according to their nature.

“They do,” Cormoran said, and oh, he hadn’t expected his throat to close up this way, his words to desert him, but the way she was looking at him….

“Robin Venetia Ellacott,” he said, and she was smiling at him, and he could barely think, but he’d been rehearsing these words for at least two weeks now, and possibly since the day he’d met her. “You are without a doubt the best thing to ever happen to me. You have…” He took a breath. “You’ve changed me, made me better. And I can never thank you enough for everything you’ve done.”

Now she really was crying, one hand covering her mouth as the tears rolled down her cheeks, and he could see her mother behind her, in nearly the same pose. 

“I can’t imagine a future without you there beside me, making every day brighter, every night more restful. You are the smartest, bravest, most beautiful, most resourceful woman I know.” He took another breath. The room was hushed. “You are who I want to wake up next to for the rest of my life, always. So would you, Robin, do me the honor and favor of letting me be your husband?”

Almost before he was done saying the words Robin gasped out, “Yes, of course,” and flung herself at him, tipping him nearly into the knees of Nick, standing behind him, taking pictures. They knelt there, on the floor, Robin crying, Cormoran wiping his eyes, kissing and laughing, as the whole room seemed to erupt in cheers and tears.

They were hauled upright to be hugged, hands shaken, and congratulated, when he heard Linda Ellacott ask, “Well, and where’s the ring?”

It was as though the entire room said “oh!” at once; Robin was still clutching the ring box, unopened, in her hand. She came back to Cormoran, who’d been having his back slapped heartily by his old friend Chum, and set it in his great palm.

“Would you like to do the honors?” she asked, and oh, he would do anything for that smile.

“Would you like me to get back down on my knee?” he asked in response, unable to stop grinning.

“No,” she laughed, “no, you don’t have to.”

“Get on with it!” someone cried.

Looking into her face, Cormoran held up the box and cracked it open, watching as Robin lit up as though something had kindled in her soul. He felt as though he was lighter than air.

Carefully, gently, he removed the ring from its box, taking Robin’s hand to slide it over her knuckles, oval-cut emerald sparkling in the light. The rose-gold setting shimmered like her hair, the tiny diamonds set into the golden leaves surrounding the emerald winking up at them.

“Cormoran, it’s perfect,” she whispered, leaning forward into his arms. “It’s perfect, I love it.”

“Yeah?” he whispered into his hair. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she said, wiping her eyes. “Cormoran, you arse, I wasn’t expecting you to do that.”

“I know, love, that’s why I did it,” he said, and she laughed, and now they were pulled by their family and friends to be kissed and congratulated some more, Robin’s hand outstretched to allow her friends to gasp over the ring.

As his Uncle Ted shook his hand and told him what a smart thing he was doing to marrying that sweet young lady, Cormoran couldn’t stop looking over at Robin, the way she glowed in the light.

“I’m the luckiest man in London tonight,” he said to Uncle Ted.

“If you didn’t think so, I’d call you a fool,” Uncle Ted said, grinning, and passed him off to be hugged and slapped on the back some more.

And the party became a party in truth, people standing in corners eating and drinking as the couch was pushed away to allow some space for dancing. Cormoran smiled to see Robin being twirled around and around by her brother, his sister introducing herself to Robin’s brother and his girlfriend. 

“Go dance with her, you arse,” said Noelle, coming up next to him. “I may not do the whole ‘love’ thing, but you two are clearly bonkers for each other, so go dance with her.”

“I’m no good,” he said, gesturing down at his leg.

“When’s that stopped anyone? Honestly, Cormoran, go dance with your fiancee,” Noelle said. And so he did, stepping forward to take her away from Jonathan, to step into the circle of his arms once more.

“Hello, love,” he said softly. “How’s your night going?”

“Oh,” she said airily. “It’s alright, I suppose. Did you hear, I’m going to be married?”

“Is that so?” Cormoran said, feigning surprise. “That must be one lucky bloke.”

“He’s the most wonderful idiot in the whole world,” she said, her heart written clearly across her face. “And he’s my idiot, and I’m keeping him.”

Cormoran had nothing to say to that, so he reached to lift her left hand from his shoulder, bringing it around so he could ever-so-softly kiss the back of it, the emerald pressing cool against his cheek. 

“You do that,” he said, and he could feel his heart beating against his chest, feel the smile that wouldn’t leave his face, his whole being completely content. 

And as Robin sighed, tucking herself against his shoulder and chest so they could sway to Frank Sinatra instructing them to “hang a shining star upon the highest bough,” Cormoran couldn’t think of a single thing he would want to change about his life in that moment. Not a single blessed thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end! (This chapter nearly doubled the size of this thing, jeez.)
> 
> Some few notes:
> 
> This chapter is almost totally unedited, so my apologies for typos, etc. Feel free to call out anything egregious.
> 
> The ring, of course, is available [on my blog, for your reference pleasure.](http://lovebeyondmeasure.tumblr.com/post/169158478424/)
> 
> Noelle is, in fact, asexual and aromantic, as is implied at the end.
> 
> If anyone wants, I might write more set in this universe, but this story is totally done as it stands.
> 
> Thank you to the crew: bethanyactually, reindeerjumper, and lindmea, for their prompts, their encouragement, and their love. I love you back. And thank you, dear readers, for loving these characters as much as I do.


End file.
